but you have to do the dance when you say it or it's just not as good

fic: sing me sweet and sleepy all the way back home (Reply)

Title: sing me sweet and sleepy all the way back homeFandom: KPOP: InfiniteCharacters/Pairings: Sunggyu/MyungsooRating: PGA/N: Just a little bit of a thing, all fluff and no substance. Countinglashes came up with the idea, I just wrote it. Summary: Morning and warm covers and Myungsoo.

Sunggyu is awake even before he hears the footsteps, but he’s wrapped in the cocooning warmth of not-ready-to-admit-that-sleep-is-over, so he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t need to: years of cohabitation have made the members’ walking patterns instantly recognizable, even padding on socked feet. And maybe it’s just that he’s still almost dreaming, but he feels like he can identify the person pausing by his bed by the heat he’s giving off—he’s pretty sure no one gives off heat in just that way. It makes sense to Sunggyu’s sleep-cottoned mind, anyway.

“Hyung?”

It’s the voice he expected to hear from the footsteps and heat, raspy as it always is in the mornings, a not-quite-awake hue that burrows into Sunggyu’s mind and takes on the insistence of an idea.

“Hyung, Woohyun-hyung told me to wake you up.”

Sunggyu wonders how Myungsoo, usually the last to be dragged out of bed if Dongwoo isn’t, is awake before him, but he doesn’t wonder enough to expend the effort required to actually ask. Instead, he gropes one hand out of his nest of blankets. The coolness of the air is offset by the brush of his hand against the solidity of Myungsoo’s body, the touch of cotton worn to such softness that even Sunggyu’s sleep-streaky mind can recognize that it must be a pajama shirt.

“Hyung—”

Sunggyu lets out a little grunt of satisfaction and finds Myungsoo’s wrist, giving it as firm of a jerk as he can half-asleep, and feels a thud reverberate through the bed as Myungsoo’s thighs slam into the side of the bedstead, hears the little poof of breath Myungsoo lets out in surprise.

“Hyung, it’s really time to get up.” Myungsoo’s voice has taken on a pleading edge. Normally that would be enough to send a shiver of anticipation through Sunggyu’s body, but in his current state of bleariness, it just curls up the edges of his mouth. “We have dance practice in forty-five minutes.”

Sunggyu knows that. It’s why he hasn’t tried to shake off the clinging warmth of sleep and dragged himself out of bed already. Even his half-conscious mind keeps track of Infinite’s daily schedule and has determined that because it’s only Dongmin-hyung waiting for them and not a PD or a film crew or a journalist, he can afford to wallow for a few more minutes.

He pulls on Myungsoo’s wrist again, weaker this time, halfhearted, and ,unsurprisingly, it doesn’t pull Myungsoo any closer.

“Hyung, please.”

Myungsoo clearly isn’t going to take the hint. Sunggyu weighs the benefits of waking up further—he really wants to stay in this fuzzy contentment, but Myungsoo is right here and radiating warmth and smelling so good and still in his pajamas, and it’s only dance practice, so they can afford to be a bit late and not entirely put together when they show up.

Cuddling wins. But that doesn’t mean he has to open his eyes to make it happen. Instead, he extricates his other arm from the tangle of sheets and blankets and takes hold of Myungsoo’s other wrist. This time when he pulls, he’s rewarded by the weight of Myungsoo’s body landing on his. It jars him a little further out of sleep, but now he can feel Myungsoo’s breath on the tender skin of his neck, so it’s worth it.

“Hyung—” Myungsoo’s voice, so close now, vibrates through Sunggyu’s body. He’s so warm, Sunggyu can feel his heat even through the blankets.

“Myungsoo.” His voice scratches its way out of his throat, but he makes sure to imbue it with the firm note that he knows Myungsoo will always obey. “Ten minutes.”

A long sigh moves through Myungsoo’s body, and then he shifts, moving off of Sunggyu to slide under the covers, making Sunggyu’s closed-eye smile widen. “I’m going to get in trouble with Woohyunnie-hyung,” Myungsoo says, resigned, as he settles his body close to Sunggyu’s.

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” Sunggyu assures him, looping his arms around Myungsoo’s waist and breathing him deep.

Myungsoo is so solid against him, so warm, the cotton of his shirt softer than anything against the undersides of Sunggyu’s arms, his skin smooth where it touches Sunggyu’s. Sunggyu curls himself closer to Myungsoo, pressing a sleepy kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Hyung, you’re all scratchy.”

Sunggyu tilts his head, kisses the side of Myungsoo’s neck instead, dragging his morning stubble across Myungsoo’s skin, making him shiver.

“It tickles.”

Another kiss, this time full-on the lips, open-mouthed, and Myungsoo’s falls open under his. But then Myungsoo pulls back. “Hyung, your breath is gross.” It’s not quite a whine, Myungsoo’s voice. Sunggyu presses his bare feet against Myungsoo’s socked ones.

“I won’t have time to kiss you later,” he rasps, and he feels Myungsoo slump against him, so he smiles and kisses him again, deepening it in that way that feels like wine in his veins instead of dynamite. Myungsoo can get him excited like no one ever has before, but sometimes this heady, comforting warmth is good too.

Sunggyu slides his fingers up under the hem of Myungsoo’s shirt to caress the skin of his back, letting the kiss fall apart and nudging Myungsoo until he tucks his head into the curve of Sunggyu’s neck.

This is the most content Sunggyu has felt in…well, he’s more awake now, but not so much that he can easily estimate how long it’s been since he felt this good, the world sleepy-soft, and Myungsoo’s body rising and falling against his with each breath. The smell of Myungsoo’s skin with the bodywash from last night’s shower faded enough not to overtake it, the brush of his unstraightened hair against Sunggyu’s neck, the weight of his arm around Sunggyu’s waist—it’s good. It’s so easy to drop back into almost-sleep, to let every tension ease out of his body, to ignore everything but Myungsoo’s hereness, even if there’s a tiny clock hovering in the back of his mind that won’t be banished no matter how he wants it to disappear. Seven more minutes.

“Can we stay like this forever, hyung?” Myungsoo’s breathes, voice bleary; he’s falling back into sleep.

It burns, how much Sunggyu wants to tell him yes, to tell the world to go screw itself and just spend as long as he wants with Myungsoo in this comfortable bed, wrapped around each other and in a place that goes beyond happiness and touches something deeper and steadier. He can’t say it, though.

“One day we’ll go on vacation,” he says instead, voice barely audible, but he knows Myungsoo can hear it. He’s that close. “A nice hotel with soft sheets. And we’ll stay in bed the whole time.”

Myungsoo makes a sound that is yearning and satisfied all at the same time, his lips brushing against Sunggyu’s neck as he shifts.

“Will you sing to me, hyung?” Myungsoo breathes, the words slurry with sleep.

Sunggyu wants to say something about how Myungsoo hears him sing every single day of his life, how he’s barely awake and his voice will sound like crap, how singing sounds like it will take more effort than he wants to expend. But it’s Myungsoo, and his hands fall into fists when he sleeps, just like a little kid, and right now one of them is fisted into Sunggyu’s shirt, and Sunggyu may call the shots in their relationship, but Myungsoo has more power over Sunggyu than he knows: Sunggyu wants to please him as much as he wants to please Sunggyu. Not that Sunggyu would ever admit to that.

So the next minute he’s singing something soft and sweet, the words like an exhale, and when Myungsoo nuzzles further into his neck, Sunggyu realizes it’s a lullaby, one his halmoni used to sing to him when he was small. His hand strokes up and down Myungsoo’s back, his arms, the contrast of soft cotton and firm muscle seeming so intrinsically Myungsoo.

Sunggyu’s voice trails off at the end of the song, but Myungsoo’s slow breathing lets Sunggyu know he’s dozing, and he can feel himself drifting after him. Three more minutes.

Three minutes, sometimes, is all the infinity they get.

(Woohyun, when he appears by the bed, shouts as he manhandles them out from under the covers and shoves Myungsoo out the of the door. Sunggyu barely has time to brush his teeth and run his electric shaver over his face and drag on a pair of pants before Woohyun is hurrying him out the door.

But even though Sunggyu, finally awake, keeps his eyes open, he doesn’t see Woohyun give Myungsoo a lecture about what a wake-hyung-up order entails, and Woohyun doesn’t say anything else to Sunggyu about it, either.

Which makes Sunggyu suspicious, so he corners Woohyun in a hallway later, eyes narrowed.

Woohyun rolls his eyes. He’s never had the respect for his leader he should have. “Why do you think I sent him in there, hyung? Instead of going myself or asking any of the rest of the kids?”

Well. Occasionally, for all his ridiculousness and lack of respect, Woohyun proves why he is the best second-in-command Sunggyu could ask for.)